


Too Brief a Reunion

by junko



Series: Senbonzakura's Song [16]
Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-18
Updated: 2014-05-18
Packaged: 2018-01-25 15:19:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1653269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Byakuya prepares to enter Hueco Mundo.  At long last, he and Renji are reunited.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too Brief a Reunion

Surveying the odd collection of people milling around in Urahara’s dusty, desert expanse of a ‘basement’, Byakuya wondered, as he often did, what in the name of creation went on inside Head Captain Shigekuni Yamamoto’s head. If there was a clear strategy, Byakuya was at a loss to understand it.

At least the choice of himself and the Kenpachi, Byakuya could understand: two strong fighters with a very divergent set of skills and range. There was no point in not assuming Yachiru would come, so she was there, as always, chattering happily from atop Zaraki’s shoulders. 

The healers, too, made a kind of sense. Though it concerned Byakuya that healers nearly outnumbered fighters. The head captain obviously thought the casualty count would be high. It particularly bothered Byakuya that, of all the captains, he was given an annoying little Fourth Division seventh seat as an… _attachment_. This buzzing, excitable boy made Byakuya miss Renji’s presence keenly. 

It was especially frustrating that this healer was astute enough to notice Byakuya’s gaze lingering on where Captain Unohana leaned in quietly to discuss strategy with her lieutenant and seemed convinced that repeating ‘I’m sure everyone is fine’ was comforting on any level. When he wasn’t saying things like that, the little Seventh Seat apparently felt the desire to apologize for doing something or other on the bridge to Senzaikyū.

“Ah,” Byakuya said, finally remembering where he’d seen this person before. “You were the one ready to die for Rukia until that belligerent Shiba pushed you out of the way.”

“You remember me, sir?” Hanataro—yes, that was the little healer’s name—seemed foolishly pleased by this development. He surprised Byakuya then by immediately dipping into a series of deep bobbing bows and saying, “I’m sorry I couldn’t prevent your sister being hurt, sir.” 

Byakuya took a moment to reassess. He let his gaze linger on Hantaro for a moment. A very average looking person: a little smaller than average height, with typically colored hair in some kind of moppy, unkempt style, and slightly larger than normal eyes. The only distinction about him was his Fourth Division satchel and the deep blue color of those puppy dog eyes.

Yet, this unremarkable person had dared to stand against a captain he must have known he had no hope to even slow down. He was, if Byakuya remembered correctly, one of the first to side with Ichigo Kurosaki and had, if the rumors around the Sixth Division were correct, also healed Renji… when Byakuya had left him for dead.

…when Byakuya had been ready to let everyone die, without a fight.

Very well. 

This assignment was not quite the insult it had first appeared. At least the little annoyance was brave and loyal to Rukia, and, after a fashion, to Renji. There were worse qualities in a fool. 

Speaking of fools, if they ever hoped to get anywhere in a timely manner, it was the height of idiocy to put Captain Mayuri Kurotsuchi anywhere near Kisuke Urahara. To be fair, it was Kurotsuchi who seemed the most put out. 

“You disappoint me,” Kurotsuchi sighed dramatically. “As usual.”

Urahara glanced down from where he was making preparations on top of a large boulder. “Oh dear, I’m so terribly sorry to hear that,” he said, though it was clear from his inflection that he hadn’t even heard a word Kurotsuchi had said. “What have I done this time?”

Kurotsuchi raised his pale, painted arm and waved it at… everything, though mostly at Benihime. “Why do you insist on using such moldering, old-fashioned ways?”

Urahara tapped his zanpakutō against the rock three times. Heavy magic thrummed through the air instantly. The wave of it was so intense that Byakuya could feel it squeeze the breath from his lungs. Adjusting his hat, Urahara gave Kurotsuchi a wan smile, “Expediency?”

This made Kurotsuchi frown. It was clear he was trying hard to be unimpressed by that little demonstration of power. “My machine can open a Garganta just as quickly.”

“Yes, well, we _are_ counting on that,” Urahara smiled down in a rather infuriating way and it was clear to Byakuya he took on the tone of teacher to student. 

“You’ll see,” Kurotsuchi murmured quietly. Turning away, he stomped off. His clone daughter following obediently in his shadow, though, she did give Urahara an apologetic bow when she was certain Kurotsuchi wasn’t looking.

“Maybe we can get the fuck on with it finally,” Zaraki muttered from where he leaned his shoulder against a rock formation. His tattered, stained haori ruffled in the breeze.

Even though he couldn’t agree more, Byakuya spared Zaraki only a brief glance. The less said between the two of them, the better. There had almost been another fight on the brief dash through the senkaimon. It would take very little to get it started again. 

In fact, Zaraki pushed off the boulder with a snarl. “You too high and mighty to talk to me now, Kuchiki?”

Byakuya’s reply was cut off by the soft, gentle sound of Unohana clearing her throat.

Both men stopped as suddenly as if a zanpakutō blade had sliced between them. She smiled patiently at them both and merely shook her head. “Now, now,” she admonished in a matronly tone. “We should save our energy for the battlefield, don’t you agree?”

There was no reason he should, but somehow Byakuya found himself nodding in agreement. Likewise, Zaraki huffed and turned away as if he’d never had any intention of starting a fight, anyway. 

Somehow, during this brief exchange Urahara had opened the Garganta. He hopped easily off the boulder and, with Benihime sealed back into its cane disguise pointed to the dark, mouth-like maw that hung in the air. He smiled at Zaraki, as if they were old friends, “Oh, Captain,” he trilled. “I’ve been told you may be happy to know that thanks to the substitute soul reaper badge Mr. Kurosaki always wears, I have a direct bead on his location. You can go right to the fight.”

“Fight?” Zaraki murmured, though he’d already started moving toward the gaping darkness of the Garganta. He shielded his eyes with his hand, and, peering intently, seemed to lock on something on the other side. “Fuck yeah, there is a fight. Cripes, what is that moron doing? Losing?”

Losing? Kurosaki Ichigo?

Byakuya’s heart pounded. What then of Rukia? Renji?

Byakuya tried to see what was happening as Zaraki passed through. The mouth of the Garganta snapped shut, looking far too much like teeth chomping down on him. It opened again, and seemed to scan the desolate Hueco Mundo landscape.

Following Byakuya’s gaze, Urahara nodded. “Renji’s unique signature should be the next easiest to find.” Urahara laughed a little awkwardly, and bounced on his feet, the geta clicking on the hard packed soil. “He seems to have been instinctively drawn to the Quincy, which is somewhat unsurprising, I suppose, given their current connection.”

Byakuya frowned at Urahara. “I’m sorry, what?”

“The purification rite—well, my version of it,” Urahara said, suddenly very serious. “Such bad timing. Did he show ill effects?”

“Some,” Byakuya admitted reluctantly. His eyes were focused on the Garganta, desperate to catch sight of Renji. There—was that a flash of crimson hair? As the maw zoomed in, like a camera, it was clear Renji had been already laid low at the feet of something with pink hair and globular wings.

Byakuya didn’t even realize he was moving forward with his hand on Senbonzakura until he felt Benihime tap against his shins, stopping him. At Byakuya’s angry look, Urahara smiled apologetically, “Sorry! However, you must realize your presence would just make him weaker. I’m sure you’d agree that given Renji’s special handicap, we should let a trained scientist deal with him and any healing he might need.” Urahara let out a little dark chuckle, “Besides, try keeping Mayuri away from a medical curiosity and a Quincy!”

It seemed Captain Kurotsuchi and his lieutenant had already stepped through. Byakuya glared at them. He despised the idea that Renji would be subjected to ‘healing’ from a vile creature like Kurotsuchi. Still, Byakuya had a creeping sense that Urahara was right. Renji hadn’t been quite same after the ‘Quincy condom.’ He’d been easily confused and a bit spacey. Yet, it had all seemed a minor inconvenience…. Had Renji been more injured than he’d said?

Byakuya’s eyes sought out the closing Garganta and the sight of Renji collapsed on the ground. Byakuya’s heart ticked in his throat. Had the purification really made Renji that much less able to fight?

Though his eyes were shaded by the rim of the striped bucket-hat, Urahara appeared to watch Byakuya carefully. “Rukia will be the next easiest to find,” he said pleasantly. But the fan came up to hide the rest of his face as he added slyly, “Given that she has a similar soul disruption.”

Byakuya’s gaze snapped to Urahara. “It’s a tradition my family insists upon.”

“Hmmm,” Urahara said, “Yes, traditionally, geldings make good working field animals, but they don’t win the races, do they?” 

How dare Urahara imply that Byakuya had any part in intentionally hobbling either Rukia or Renji? This was a private family matter. “This is not something you would understand.”

“Oh, you’re very right. It most definitely is _not_ ,” Urahara’s sing-song, cheerful tone belied the cut of his words. Then, he turned to the Garganta suddenly. It seemed to be sputtering, circling an area, like a dog that had lost the scent. “Oh dear, Rukia’s signal is too faint for a perfect pinpointing. This is as close as—“

But, Byakuya had already flashed through. Goddamn Urahara—no, it was aunt Masama Byakuya would kill if anything happened to either Renji or Rukia. They were the strength and the pride of his family. His true family.

#

 

Renji woke up to see Isane Kotetsu kneeling over him. Her eyes were closed and the long, thin beaded braid of her hair tickled where it lay on his bare chest, reminding him of the time they’d drunkenly hooked up in the storeroom of the Eleventh. Her reiatsu fed him the same way it had then, making him feel warm and safe and cuddly. So, Renji couldn’t resist the urge to tug the gray hair lock playfully, “Hiya, beautiful.”

Her eyes flew open with a squeak. A bright blush flushed her face. “Lieutenant Abarai! You’re awake!”

Unbelievably, it seemed to be true. Renji figured he should be dead about three times over between that creepazoid Szayel-whatever slowly crushing his internal organs one by one, suffering through what passed as ‘healing’ from crazy-freak Captain Kurotsuchi, and then the giant Yammy splattering him into the ground, like swatting a fly. 

Yet, somehow, he was not only alive, but also feeling fairly good. 

Actually, the reason Renji felt so ‘up’ was no mystery, not to him, anyway. “Where’s Bya—er, Captain Kuchiki?”

Isane gave him a knowing smile. “You should rest. I’m sure your captain will come check on you as soon as he’s able.”

Right. Even though Aizen had retreated, the fighting was far from over. “Nah, you know. I shouldn’t be in a hurry,” he laughed self-deprecatingly. Sitting up a little, he leaned his elbows into the gritty, cold sand. “I’m going have a lot of explaining to do, getting my ass kicked so much. I’m sure y’all are pretty ticked at having to rescue us.”

She shook her head mutely. Renji wasn’t sure if that meant she was or that she thought it was a stupid question to pose to a healer, who probably always came in to the battle to rescue any survivors. It was clear she wasn’t in a chatty mood, however. She kept glancing up at the sky, like she expected an army to drop on their heads at any minute. “I need to check on Ms. Kuchiki.”

“Rukia?” Renji’s heart froze and he scrambled to his feet, clutching Zabimaru. “She’s okay, right?”

Once he was upright, Renji noticed that they’d laid her next to him. Rukia was set out on a blanket, like a corpse. She looked pale—too pale. He dropped back down to his knees and clutched her hand. Too cold, but the patient look in Isane’s eyes as she settled into seiza beside him reassured Renji that Rukia would live. “The chill is actually Sode no Shirayuki protecting her.”

Renji let out a breath he didn’t even realize he’d been holding. “Right, of course.”

Isane didn’t ask him to move or even let go of Rukia’s hand. Instead, she worked around him. Renji smoothed a bit of hair from Rukia’s face and said, “When you pull out of this, I’m going to march you straight to Captain Ukitake and demand he give you a promotion. I can’t believe you ain’t even seated. It’s a goddamn crime.”

He sat himself down more comfortably and let his thumb absently caress her fingers. 

Someone had punched a hole in the sky-dome. Blackness leaked in, like some kind of anti-sunshine. Despite the desert-like landscape, the breeze chilled Renji deep to the bone.

In the distance a mechanical sort of grinding whine started up, making Isane jump. Tracking the source of the sound, Renji thought he saw something happening in the valley below them. Yammy’s huge body was on the ground and a bunch of shinigami were there. He thought maybe one of them might be Byakuya, but where was his captain’s haori? The other was definitely Kenpachi, but he seemed more ragged than usual, too. That orange speck must be Ichigo’s hair. Ichigo seemed to be talking to Captain Unohana. Some distance from them, Kurotsuchi and Nemu fiddled with some massive equipment. 

“Looks like they’re sending Ichigo into the fire again,” Renji said both to Isane and the still unconscious Rukia. Rukia stirred a little at Ichigo’s name; her brow creased. Renji patted her hand. “I don’t think we get to go with him this time, Rukia.” 

When Rukia let out a little moan, Isane gave Renji a sharp glance. 

He mouthed ‘What?’ but he knew what he had to say, “What I mean is, you concentrate on healing up fast,” Renji told Rukia. “We’ll run after him as soon as you’re able, don’t you worry.”

At that, Rukia seemed to settle back with a sigh. Isane nodded approvingly and went back to her work.

A Garganta creaked into existence and Renji watched as Ichigo and Unohana dashed through. Renji felt his gut clench with the desire to be the one at Ichigo’s heels, but he’d already shown how useless he was…. 

Renji shook away his darkening mood. No, it hadn’t been a total loss. They’d brought the walls down on this place and they’d distracted Aizen and taken down several of his minions…. Well, at least Ichigo had. With Ichigo, sometimes the best you could do was run blindly in his wake and try not to die. It still made Renji feel pretty fucking inadequate. Goddamn Quincy even had to rescue his sorry ass once.

The sound of Isane’s sharp intake of breath broke Renji’s reverie. He glanced up in time to see a figure staggering toward them. It was a man with a shock of blue hair, dressed in Espada white, with billowing harem pants and a little genie-half vest. As soon as Renji registered the bony jaw-mask and stomach hole, he was on his feet reaching for Zabimaru.

The Espada growled at Renji, and made a kind of drunken swipe with his hands, as though they were claws. “Fuck you, fuck your fucking fucktard face, shinigami shithole. I’m the fucking king.”

Zabimaru hadn’t even cleared the scabbard before the Espada dropped, face-first into the sand.

Renji and Isane exchanged glances, but she didn’t seem to know what to make of this situation either. Drawing Zabimaru to the ready, Renji waited warily for a few moments, but the Espada didn’t move. 

Inching closer, Renji stuck out an experimental toe, but stopped short of nudging the body when he saw the number tattooed on his lower back. “Holy crap, Six,” he said, backing away slowly. “Eight nearly killed me—me and Ishida.”

Isane didn’t seemed to have heard him, because she scrambled over to the fallen Espada on her hands and knees. Kneeling in front of the prone, unmoving body, she put her hands out, hovering over him. Renji could feel the healing energy pouring out of her. 

Renji smacked her head, like he would Rukia’s. “What’re you doing? That’s the enemy, you soft-hearted dip. Numero Sexta! Six! Two higher than that insane pink-haired torturer! Two!” Renji held up the number on his fingers for emphasis, “Two!”

“Captain Unohana said help everyone,” she said quietly.

Renji sheathed Zabimaru, shaking his head. “Your funeral. You heard that guy. Not a lot of love there for shinigami.”

“I’m the king,” murmured the Espada weakly, his voice muffled by the sand.

Isane looked up at Renji as if to say ‘but look how cute!’ 

What was it about guys like that and the ladies? Renji sighed and said, “Do me a favor though, would you? Don’t go giving him full strength right away. I mean, really, can’t you stop once you know he’s going to pull through? What if he wakes up raring to go and tears through us to take out Rukia and your other patients?”

Isane looked down at the blue-haired Espada who was now breathing peacefully. She pulled her hands away. “Oh, right.”

Renji let out an easier breath. He glanced down the valley, hoping to see Byakuya making his way up the hill. Instead, it seemed that Byakuya and Kenpachi were circling each other. It was weird to see Byakuya without the haori. Even at a distance, he looked a lot younger, somehow. Younger and more idiotic if he was going to take on a post-fight, revved-up Kenpachi…

Watching them for a moment, Renji considered the merits of trying to break the two captains up. He started to steel himself for the job, but then Kurotsuchi started screeching something and waving them away from Yammy’s body.

Byakuya apparently took the opportunity to flash up the hill. “Renji,” he said simply.

“Taicho,” Renji said to remind himself not to rush into Byakuya’s arms and kiss him until they both forgot to breathe. 

But, Renji needn’t have worried that they’d be unprofessional, because Byakuya strode right past him to where Rukia lay. 

“She will recover.” The way Byakuya said it was more of a command than a question to Isane.

Isane nodded, “Yes, sir.”

Byakuya paused and regarded the passed out form of the Espada. “This one has blue hair.”

“Yeah,” Renji said coming to stand beside Byakuya. Surreptitiously, Renji leaned in close enough to catch Byakuya’s scent. He took a deep breath of the familiar musk, and then covered by asking: “Is that important?”

“One of the teahouses was terrorized by something with claws and blue hair,” Byakuya said, giving Renji a sidelong glance as if to say he’d noticed what Renji’d done and did not entirely approve, even if he might have found it vaguely amusing. 

Renji shrugged by way of apology and said, “He acted like he might’ve had claws when he was upright.”

“I believe that’s a final mystery solved.”

“There was more than one?” Renji asked. 

“The Kaien clone,” Byakuya said with a glance down at Rukia. “It appears to have been the Espada that Rukia killed.”

“Huh,” Renji looked down at Rukia’s tiny form. Killed an Espada, had she? How had she managed that when Renji wasn’t sure he’d even dented much of anything in this gods-forsaken place. He shook his head at his poor showing. “I really got to hit the dojo when I get back. I suck.”

“That may not entirely be your fault,” Byakuya said. “But, we can discuss that once Aizen is defeated.”

Once Aizen is defeated? Renji had to admit he liked the confidence of that. 

Byakuya continued to frown down at the passed out Espada. He clucked his tongue disapprovingly. “This one seems to still be alive.”

Renji glanced over at Isane, who had moved to check on Rukia. “Yep, and getting better.”

“We can not have a threat lying this close to Rukia,” Byakuya determined. 

That was full-on captain voice, from the sounds of it. Renji let his hand fall to Zabimaru and watched Isane, in case he had to hold her back when the captain decided to dispatch the Espada. She had continued along the line of injured, to check on Sado, so maybe he’d only have to---

“Renji, can you carry that?” Byakuya asked.

Renji blinked. He’d been trying to remember if he knew anything about Isane’s zanpakutō, and the sudden change in expected tactics threw him. “… Carry? Oh. Uh….” Eyeing up the Espada, he tried to judge. The guy was not that much shorter than himself, with compact muscles—a tough-looking son of a bitch… but, could Renji lift him? Maybe, if he did that over-the-shoulder thing. “Probably.”

“Then do so,” Byakuya said. “Let us move him some distance from here.”

As Renji struggled the Espada into position, Isane looked like she might say something. Renji shook his head in warning. She frowned unhappily, but a glance at Byakuya’s hard expression kept her mouth shut. 

When Byakuya flashed away, Renji held back a step. He tried to reassure Isane, “Look, I’ve got to follow orders, but, if I can, I’ll make sure to stash this guy somewhere he won’t get scavenged. It’s the best I can do. He looks like a survivor. He’ll be alright.” 

Isane nodded gratefully. She started to say something, but, whatever it was, Renji missed it because he was already off, rushing to catch up to Byakuya.

#

Renji caught up with Byakuya somewhere well beyond the walls of Aizen’s compound. The monotonous sand dunes of Hueco Mundo stretched out in every direction. At odd intervals, leafless, barren stone-crystal trees stuck up like spikes. A silvery crescent moon hung in a clear black sky. Renji’s breath came in huffs in the frigid air. Shifting his burden on his shoulder, he asked, “Is this where you want to drop him, Taicho? Only I was thinking we could shove him into a cave or—“

Byakuya’s hands were suddenly on Renji’s face and his lips pressed up against his mouth. The taste of a hint of coppery blood and smell of the sweat and steel of battle belied the urgent gentle exploration. Soft fingers curled around Renji’s ears and into his hair, while tentative, intimate tendrils of reiatsu sought out his own.

Renji’s only sense of losing his grip on the Espada was a muffled thump somewhere behind him and a quiet ‘fucking king, goddamn it.’

The kiss was over before it really started, however. “We can’t tarry long,” Byakuya said, his hands dropping to rest on Renji’s chest. “I wanted a few moments alone with you.”

Just then, the Espada mumbled, “I’mma kill you all…” 

Renji was going to make a joke about how ‘alone’ they were, but Byakuya caught him up in another kiss. When his hands felt tattered shihakushō and bare arm, Renji almost jumped back in surprise. “You were injured?”

“In a way,” Byakuya said. “The Espada I faced had the ability to control another’s body. I sliced my own tendons to stop him.”

“Fucking A!” Renji said, adding an appreciative whistle. “That’s so bad-ass!”

Byakuya seemed to be having trouble holding back a smile. “I merely did what was necessary.”

Renji stroked the hair at Byakuya’s shoulder. He sidled in close enough that their stomachs almost touched. “Maybe, but it’s still hardcore. I wouldn’t have thought of it, much less had the follow-through. I mean, it’s intense to have to disable yourself in a battle.”

“It was, but it’s over now.” Byakuya said, closing his eyes as Renji’s fingers traced the contours of cheeks and jaw. Tension seemed to release at Renji’s touch, and Byakuya let out a happy sigh. “I’ve missed you.”

Renji nodded. If he’d had time to breathe, he would have felt the same. What he wanted now was a break—a nice long bath, about a week in bed, and lots and lots of loving. “You really think it’s going to be over soon?”

“I do,” Byakuya said. “Aizen has retreated, as planned.”

Plan? There was a plan? There was a relief. Renji twirled a bit of Byakuya’s inky hair in his fingers. Byakuya’s arm encircled his waist. Someone gnawed on his ankle…

“What the fuck?” Renji shook out his foot, dislodging the Espada’s teeth. He considered giving the blue-haired creep a kick in the bony jaw mask, but there didn’t seem to be much of a point. He was already unconscious again muttering a string of unrelated swear words and proclaiming himself the king.

“If the Espada is growing hungry, we should go.” Byakuya said with a sigh.

“Yeah,” Renji said, “Just let me find a shelter for him. I promised.”

Byakuya gave Renji a look like he couldn’t believe what a softy he had for a lieutenant, but then he nodded. “Very well. I will meet you back in the Soul Society.”

“Back home?”

At Renji’s confused frown, Byakuya continued, “Yes. Rukia will run to Kurosaki as soon as she is well enough. I know you’ll want to accompany her.”

True. “Okay,” Renji said, stealing one last kiss before stooping down to get the Espada up over his shoulder again. “You remember what you promised me?”

“To kiss you senseless.”

Renji felt a thrill shiver through him. “Yeah, that.”

“I haven’t forgotten.”

Getting to his feet with a grunt, Renji said, “Good. Because thinking about that is what kept me going.”

**Author's Note:**

> I might have a little too much fun with Grimmjow. I REGRET NOTHING! Not even the ankle-biting! 
> 
> Thanks as always goes to Josey (cestus) for her typo-ing and encouragement. Without her, I would have stopped this story too soon (without even a kiss!)


End file.
